


and in our separate worlds, we sleep alone

by WreakingHavok



Category: DreamSMP, SMPLive, The Lunch Club Podcast
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Lunch Club Podcast References, Nostalgia, Visits from the Boys, slimecicle cinematic universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:07:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27402466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WreakingHavok/pseuds/WreakingHavok
Summary: “Get out,” Schlatt says. Ted’s skin cracks along his veins. “Get out.”“You haven’t changed,” Ted says, and slams the knife into the counter so terrifyingly hard it sticks there.“Did you expect me to?” Schlatt asks.“I guess I didn’t,” Ted says, snorting, “I guess I should have known,” and then he breaks out into laughter and shatters at the seams.~President Schlatt is visited five times.
Relationships: Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF) & Everyone, No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 48
Kudos: 230
Collections: Dream SMP Connected Storylines





	and in our separate worlds, we sleep alone

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [only one thing left to say](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27358792) by [everythingFangirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythingFangirl/pseuds/everythingFangirl). 



> TW: people dissolve in various ways if that isn’t your cup of tea :]
> 
> Title from Coffee Breath by Sofia Mills.

“Your kitchen is the saddest thing I’ve ever seen,” Ted says, “and I’ve watched Travis try to recite the alphabet.”

“What are you doing in my house?” Schlatt asks, heart beating hard from the sudden shock of Ted Nivison appearing before him with no warning. 

“I am judging you,” Ted says. “Heavily.”

“Get,” Schlatt splutters, “put that knife down, and get out.”

Ted grins, poking the kitchen knife in his right hand a little further out. “This? This knife?”

“Get out!” Schlatt almost shouts, thinking better of it just in time. The others are still sleeping. It wouldn’t be good to wake them up by screaming at an apparition. 

That is what this is, right? It has to be. No one sane would come within two realms of this world, especially not someone like Ted.

“Calm down,” Ted says, undermining his gentle tone by gesturing with the knife again.

“Funny,” Schlatt says. “You’re real funny, what do you want from me, huh?”

“Remember our businesses?” Ted says instead of answering him. “We crossed paths, once or twice. Remember that?”

“I don’t have time for this,” Schlatt says. 

“Hear me out,” Ted says - no, orders - it carries power, Ted always did, and so with a heavy sigh, Schlatt crumples into a chair and waits.

“You always did know how to get what you wanted,” Ted says. He pulls open the fridge, grabbing an apple from inside. “That’s one of the things I admired about you. Congratulations on your presidency, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Schlatt says dryly.

“What are you going to do with it?”

“I’m,” Schlatt starts, then hesitates, then says, “I’m going to -”

“Boost the tourism industry?” Ted asks, twirling the knife once around his fingers before slicing into the apple. “Maybe burn down a few houses?”

“I’m going to unite the nation,” Schlatt says. “You’re going to damage my countertops.”

“Unite the nation,” Ted drawls, carelessly cutting the rest of the apple away from the core. “That sounds very fancy. You’ve made quite the name for yourself.”

“No thanks to you,” Schlatt sneers, “and if you’re here for a slice of power, you lost your chance back when -” 

Ted interrupts him with a scoff. “I don’t want power, Schlatt. Not anymore.”

“That’s rich,” Schlatt laughs. “Ted Nivison doesn’t want power. That’s good.”

“Some of us grew up,” Ted says, tight. “You think you’re the only one who’s suffered?”

Schlatt thinks of water and lava and tight spaces and volcanoes and explosions, about how Ted could never understand, and decides it’s time for Ted to go.

“Put the knife down,” Schlatt says.

Ted’s form shivers. “Schlatt. The least you can do is listen.”

“Get out,” Schlatt says. Ted’s skin cracks along his veins. “Get out.”

“You haven’t changed,” Ted says, and slams the knife into the counter so terrifyingly hard it sticks there.

“Did you expect me to?” Schlatt asks. 

“I guess I didn’t,” Ted says, snorting, “I guess I should have known,” and then he breaks out into laughter and shatters at the seams.

~

“See,” calls his television, “you’re going about it all wrong.”

Schlatt sighs, rubbing his eyes. Quackity’s gone to bed early, leaving him alone in the lounge armchair. He takes a swig of his drink. “Why’s that?”

Noah grins at him through the screen. “Long time, no see, Schlatt.”

“I’ve got a lot to do tomorrow,” Schlatt says. “Make it quick.”

“You don’t have to listen to us,” Noah says.

“Who’s to say I am?” Schlatt takes another drink and wishes it would burn his throat again.

“Surely,” Noah says. “Anyway. Ted says you’re in charge.”

“That’s right.”

“You’re ruling by force, right? The people aren’t happy with you.”

“I was democratically elected,” Schlatt says. “There’s no reason for them to get upset.”

“People love a revolutionary,” Noah chides. “And a pretty face. You’re no Wilbur Soot.”

“You’re hardly a saint yourself,” Schlatt shoots back.

Noah chuckles. “Fair. But my point is, you’d do better to work with them, not make them work.”

“Don’t pretend like you know how to lead,” Schlatt says. Noah’s image flashes out of frame for a millisecond - when it comes back, his face has been scrambled by a pixel blur. 

“Don’t you, either,” Noah’s shoulders shrug. “You should try talking to them. It’s easier together, you know.” 

“Right,” Schlatt scoffs. “That’s why this is the first time I’ve seen you in years.”

Noah’s body is disintegrating into blue and red and green, voice cracking with static. “You never call.”

“Don’t come back,” Schlatt says, watching him flake away with an awful taste in the back of his mouth. 

“Don’t change the channel,” Noah warns, but he’s already gone.

~

“I didn’t know you liked the beach,” comes a voice from behind him. 

“You too?” Schlatt snaps, not bothering to turn around. The sand is hot under his palms, but he keeps them dug into the ground, gritting his teeth against the pain. 

Cooper sits down beside him, stretching his legs out. The ocean rushes to meet him, pooling around his bare feet before retreating back to its bed. “You know what they say. Sometimes you miss the homies.”

“You’re just as stupid as I remember,” Schlatt says. 

Cooper laughs, achingly familiar. The fins behind his ears twitch, scale-covered tail flicking in the damp sand behind him.

“What do you want, huh?” Schlatt asks. “Come to tell me I don’t spend enough time outside? Maybe if I took the time to smell the roses, I wouldn’t be such an asshole?”

“Nah,” Cooper shrugs. “I think that was Travis’s plan, though, I’ll tell him to change the script.”

“Tell him not to come,” Schlatt says, hating the rush of guilt that courses through him.

Cooper just hums. “You look tired, dude.”

“You look stoned.”

“I am,” Cooper says. “You don’t see me terrorizing a nation, though.”

“Terrorizing,” Schlatt scoffs. “Is that what I’m doing?”

“They’re unhappy.”

“That’s on them.”

“You’re unhappy,” Cooper says carefully, out of the blue.

Schlatt snaps his mouth shut. The waves answer for him, roaring a little louder, splashing Cooper’s khakis. 

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Cooper asks. Schlatt glares at him and watches the boy’s eyes start to leak, water running down his face and onto his clothes like a faucet. 

“Arent I,” Cooper says, a little more forceful.

Schlatt pushes off of the ground, brushing sand off his pants and hands, and starts to walk away.

“Schlatt,” Cooper demands. “You can’t ignore us forever.”

“Tell them not to come,” Schlatt yells behind him, and convinces himself the water on his face is just spray from the tidal wave that washes Cooper away.

~

“Nice place,” Travis says, slamming the office door open with a bang.

Schlatt starts up from his meaningless paperwork to see the boy leaning on his desk, tail visibly wagging. His hair’s been cut since the last time Schlatt saw him. 

“Hey, T-Money,” he says, not surprised. “Been a while.”

Travis smiles at him with much sharper teeth than Schlatt remembers. “Yeah. It’s good to see you.”

“What can I do for you?” Schlatt asks, putting down the pen in his left hand. These visits are starting to develop a pattern. 

“We’ve got a place, now,” Travis says, jumping right into the speech - he never was one to beat around the bush. “You could come stay with us again.”

They have a place. This information does surprise him. “Who? Where?”

“Far away,” Travis says. “Us, and Josh. Joko. Junky, uh, anyone who needs it, really.”

Schlatt frowns. “You let everyone in, things will go to hell again. It’ll be no different than the first time. You let everyone in, and this,” he gestures around the Oval Office with a grin, “shit like this happens.”

Travis narrows his eyes. “People really scattered after - after the first time. We owe it to them to try. Some weren’t as lucky as you.”

“Oh,” Schlatt laughs, bitter, “I’m lucky, now, am I? Fuck off, Travis. You have no idea what’s happened since the last time we talked.”

Travis leans back, crossing his arms, pinning him to his chair with a scrutinizing stare. He looks different, Schlatt realizes. His eyes look so, so old. “Neither do you,” he says. 

“And whose fault is that?” 

“Schlatt, man, please.”

“Times have changed,” Schlatt decides, pushing down the ache behind his ribs when Travis’s ears flatten. “Thanks for your charity offer, but I’m content where I am. I’m doing just fine for myself.”

“We miss you,” Travis blurts. Had he even been listening? 

“That’s on you,” Schlatt says. He stares Travis down and watches with a sick fascination as the boy’s limbs start to mist apart; his body dissolves into a haze that smells like campfire, crawling up his chest and neck, leaving his eyes and his mouth set in a face made of smoke. 

“Bye, then,” Travis says. He sounds sad. Schlatt refuses to fall for it.

“Tell him not to come,” Schlatt says, picking up the pen again.

“Are you sure?” Travis asks - only his eyes are left.

But before Schlatt can answer him, they, too, vanish, and God, Schlatt has such a headache.

~

“You’re not going to convince me of anything,” Schlatt says, turning the faucet off.

“You never know,” Charlie says, shrugging. Schlatt looks behind him, but there’s no one there - back to the mirror, and Charlie’s image waves at him with a grin. “I might get you to reflect on some things.”

Schlatt resists the urge to punch the glass. “There’s nothing you can say that the others haven’t tried.”

“Ah, but the others don’t know what I know,” Charlie says, voice dramatically mysterious. Schlatt bristles at the tone. 

“And what’s that, Charlie?”

“You and your hunger for power,” Charlie says, “you and a volcano, you and me. It really puts this whole thing into perspective.”

“If you’ve come to guilt trip me, it won’t work.” Schlatt smiles. “That was some of my best work. How are your friends, by the way?”

“I see them every week,” Charlie says. “But no, this isn’t a lecture. Or payback, or anything like that.”

“Have you forgiven me?” Schlatt snorts, feeling so, so tired. 

“Hardly.” Charlie’s smile flashes cold for only a millisecond, but it’s enough to make Schlatt clench his hands around the sink. “You’ve hurt a lot of people, Schlatt. You like doing it, too.”

“And what of it?” he shrugs. “A man’s gotta have some fun.”

“Do you ever think about the past?” Charlie asks, sweeping a hand through the air. 

“No,” Schlatt says. 

“Do you remember Wilbur? Of course you do. Do you remember Ty?”

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“I was surprised you hadn’t already,” Charlie grins. It begins; Schlatt watches his hair turn green, dripping down his face like molten rock. It’s agonizingly slow.

“Why did you come here?” Schlatt growls. 

Charlie cocks his head to the side, looking like he’s genuinely thinking about it. His shoulders begin to melt. “I’ve been thinking about the past. I’ve been thinking about second chances.”

“You said you haven’t forgiven me,” Schlatt says. 

Charlie shakes his head. “I haven’t. I was hoping you’d give me reason to.”

“Ha,” Schlatt says. Charlie’s face is turning a sickly pale green. 

“I suppose we should have known,” Charlie says. 

“Will I see you again?” Schlatt asks, unable to stop the question.

Charlie stares, his expression flat and pained. “I don’t think so.”

“Good,” Schlatt whispers. 

“Yeah,” Charlie says, giving one final sigh as he melts into the cold tile. “Yeah, I think it is.”

**Author's Note:**

> To feel better, please go read this now :) it is by my lovely friend eF and heavily inspired this work! 
> 
> [only one thing left to say](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27358792)


End file.
